


ghost.image()

by valediction



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Julius(?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 03:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18229163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valediction/pseuds/valediction
Summary: even with the transistor, without root access to the directory their world exists in, there's only so much you can do to expunge your own data from all the systems.and oh, there's quite a lot the process can do with even the barest of trace data left behind.





	ghost.image()

**Author's Note:**

> poses! back on my bullshit with aus no one ever asked for, hahaha sob
> 
> here's some [listening music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S1j1QeMagyo) if you wanted some. you're welcome.

It’s mostly the murmuring of the Transistor that keeps Ludger grounded as he skirts his way through the unnatural quiet of what was Trigleph’s normally-bustling commercial district, the quiet, soothing reassurances spoken in his brother’s voice helping to remind him that the world hasn’t completely fallen to pieces around him yet, that he isn’t alone in a warped facsimile of the home he’d known only a night before.

Maybe that’s why the soft, distant notes of what is undeniably the Hymn of Proof carried on dead air gives him so much pause, stops him dead in his tracks with a sharp glance and wide eyes and whiplash whirl. It’s faint and warped, tinged by that crackling quality of sound that only exists in Trigleph these days in radios found in vintage novelty shops or antique stores.

But, unmistakably, that’s...

Ludger, the Transistor says. His brother’s voice sounds unsettled. Ludger supposes he would be too. Ludger, we should hurry on. If... If you really want to get to Spirius that badly, we shouldn’t stay here long.

Ludger ignores him, and instead heads toward Freres. The distant humming grows ever stronger as he approaches, weaving through the unfamiliar streets and alleyways he's long since memorized. And when he gets there— When he gets there, there’s a familiar silhouette and white coat sitting on the swings, facing away from him, as if simply waiting for his arrival.

You _came_ you came **you came** , it sighs, affectionate and fond. Ludger stiffens and draws up short, because it’s a familiar voice and yet it’s _not,_ layered over itself in a way no human voice naturally would. And yet— I thought you would, but still, I worried. You took so long. I thought something might have happened to you on the way. I thought you might have decided not to come back after all.

...That isn’t _me,_ the voice in the Transistor says. It sounds pained, and— Ludger, I promise it isn’t.

The figure finally turns to face them, and Ludger’s grip on the Transistor tightens. It’s...

Aren’t I? Julius murmurs, warped and crackling and staticky. Well. Well, maybe that’s right.

It’s _Julius,_ it’s him, but he’s— _wrong._ His expression is gentle, but his smile is broken, wide and jagged, a slash of black across a too pale face. His eyes are red and glittering with a familiar mirth, uncanny for how it shouldn’t be present, not here, not like this. Julius is painted in reds and whites and blacks and made of angles just a little too sharp—

But he doesn’t do anything other than extend a hand to beckon to the empty swing beside him, sitting on a patch of ground untouched by the ever creeping white.

Ludger, the Transistor warns, something strained in its tone. 

Ludger, Julius-not-Julius says. It’s all right. I understand. I understand. This is all very strange, I know. And I’m not what you think I am. You’re right. You’re right about that. I’m just what’s left.

His hand is still extended.

Ludger— can’t breathe.

As if in understanding, his brother’s head tilts, gently. It’s overwhelming, isn’t it? It’s all wrong. Right now, it's wrong. Everything is wrong. None of this is right. Nothing is the way it should be. But we can fix it, you know. Together. You can make it better. We just need your help. We just need you. You’re a good boy, we know. You’ve always been.

Julius' too-sharp smile widens, just a little, sadly. His eyes are over-bright.

You'll help us, won't you? Won’t you come with us? Won’t you help us to fix _everything?_

**Author's Note:**

> if you haven't played transistor, do me a solid and look it up. try it out. please, it's a beautiful and short game, you can get a playthrough done in only a few hours! [also the process are 100% aesthetic.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nMyoI-Za6z8)


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